


Aftermath (Bright Lights)

by ohmygoshwhatascream



Category: Xenoblade Chronicles 2 (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Canon Divergent, F/M, I actually tried so hard with this, Kinda out of character, Spoilers, but lets call it artistic license, kind of an AU, weird introspective shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-07-11 15:35:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19930399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohmygoshwhatascream/pseuds/ohmygoshwhatascream
Summary: She can’t help but wonder what his true intentions are.He’s planning something, but what?Or alternatively,A slight AU where people in xc2 actually have eyes and realise that Amalthus is a shady mother fucker and that Indol definitely gives off some mad cult vibes.





	Aftermath (Bright Lights)

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this literally straight after I saw Zeke and Pandoria’s backstory. I actually still don’t know if Amalthus is the main antagonist of the game, I’m midway through C8 but like I’m certain he is.
> 
> How did NOBODY in the main cast, aside from Rex who like doesn’t even act on it, actually see how weird and creepy and definitely evil this dude is? And also this is also based of the huge cult vibes Indol gave me. It’s creepy man, that area gives me the shivers.
> 
> Also I really struggle to make my writing flow and not feel awkward/stunted so like hopefully it’s not too bad and I hope you guys like it!!! :)
> 
> Also sorry for any OOC but like they did almost die so I think that’s a decent excuse to not act entirely like yourself.

In silence, she watches as the sun peeks over the horizon. It sets Indol aflame with burning oranges and fiery reds, painting the world around her in bright, dangerous light. Instinctively, her hands clench tightly by her sides, nails digging deep into her palms and her tongue growing heavy in her mouth. She breaths in deep breaths, trying in vain to calm her rattled nerves and soothe her whispering mind.

She closes her eyes, squeezing them shut as hard as she possibly can.

Maybe she can block it out. Get rid of it all.

But she can’t. Even when she thinks she’s safe, she can still see the light. It burns red, inescapable and always there. _Blood_ , she thinks.

She can’t escape her memories - not here. Definitely not here. The sky sears bright through her eyelids and she sees fire.

_(It’s burning. The world. It’s burning)_

Everything will be okay. It has to be. They’re still here. They’re still together. It’s all going to be fine.

_(It’s a lie, though. Isn’t it? It’s all a lie)_

Really, that’s what truly matters. She _should_ be grateful. She _should_ be thankful. She _should_ be on her knees, grovelling to the Indolines who had saved their lives. Saved her memories. 

But it’s not that easy. Of course she’s grateful, _of course she is_. Zeke... he’d be dead had they not intervened. She can never repay these people for what they did. Never. Not with all the time in the world.

Even still... she can’t help but feel like this is a mistake. Like there’s a catch to all of this. The two of them are going to think everything is okay, that they’re safe and fine and nothing will go wrong. They’ll let down their guard, be lulled into a sense of security... but suddenly the rug will be pulled from underneath them. They’ll fall down and deep. They won’t be able to stop it. They’ll just keep going, further and further into the abyss. Into the fire.

There has to be a reason as to why they’ve been saved. Indol didn’t do it for nothing. They couldn’t have! Was it really for their benefit? Her and Zeke’s? Or did they save them for another reason...

She needs to calm down, reign in her emotions. She’s being ridiculous.

(“Immature.” Eulogimenos. His voice... it’s in her head. A man she had scarcely thought about since their banishment over a decade ago, yet somehow his words linger in the depths of her memories, cold and cruel and unforgiving)

The sensation in her chest... the thoughts pounding in her head... it’s not quite right. There’s something missing in this place. Something wrong.

Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe it’s because they almost died that she feels like this.

_(Sometimes, she wonders if they’re still alive)_

Indol is stifling. She feels smothered under it, as though it’s white buildings and grand structures loom above far her. The marble statues glare at her as she walks by, their hands around her throat and their feet heavy on her chest. She’s defenceless in this place, unable to do anything as the city collapses around her. She’s trapped.

_(They’re all trapped here)_

Even Zeke senses something. He seems happy enough, but she can feel the tension in his shoulders and see the uncertainty on his face.

She’s been by his side for over ten years. She can read him like an open book, just like he can with her. They’re in synch like that. They always have been.

They both know something is wrong. They just don’t know _what_.

Something lurks here. Something dangerous. Something dark. There’s something Amalthus is hiding. It’s shown in the the way he controls the distribution of core crystals. It’s in the way he speaks of Tantal, like he knows the place - how could he? Nobody’s seen what’s happened to the kingdom in over 500 years. How could he understand what it’s like?

(It’s in the way he looks at her - looks at all Blades. Like they’re not really real, as if she cannot think or feel like everyone else)

She doesn’t trust this place, she doesn’t trust the guards or the citizens or the refugees... she doesn’t rust any of them!

_But they saved your life. They saved his life. You owe them everything._

(Maybe that’s what they want her to think. Maybe that was their plan all along)

She wonders if Amalthus really did save them out of the kindness of his heart. Sure, that’s what he’d _told_ Zeke when he’d eventually woken up, but something had lingered in his eyes... she could almost hear his mind whirring, the cogs clicking and turning in his head as he had looked at them with an expression so kind yet somehow simultaneously so distant and cold.

(She notices how he sends a lot of letters. She’s only caught glimpses of them once or twice, but she’s seen that emblem before, that indigo ink. It’s so familiar... but where?)

He says that he’s a changed man from the power hungry fool who awakened the Aegis, the man who unleashed an evil so great that the scars still lay heavy in the snow-covered ruins of Tantal.

She almost believes him. There’s sadness in his eyes, something regretful, something sorrowful.

But there’s a shadow across his face that Pandoria can’t quite trust. It’s something angry, something furious. When he speaks, sometimes, she swears she can sense something else. Something much bigger than she can comprehend. Harsh and cruel, unforgiving. It makes her stomach sink and a feeling she cannot name swirl in the depths of her head.

She wonders why he let Tantal starve all those years ago. She wonders why he never, not even once, stepped in to help as the people succumbed to frostbite and famine.

She wonders why, out of every region in Alrest, King Eulogimenos had feared Indoline the most.

(But most of all, she wonders if Amalthus had other motives for saving their lives.)

.

Amalthaus wants them to become envoys of sorts for the Praetorium, to observe the safekeeping of the other Aegis - Mythra, she thinks he had called her - and then they’re eventual goal will be to bring the Aegis’ driver here; to the Praetorium. He says it’s to make sure that the unimaginable power of the Aegis does not fall into the wrong hands, for fear of the devastation those with evil intents could inflict on the world. _(Ironic, coming from him)_ She wonders if that’s entirely true, if that’s really why he’s so obsessed with this new Driver.

Zeke had agreed heartily, barely even thinking about it. He’d said it was his way of paying them back for what they had done, but Pandoria can’t help but feel like he senses the danger here. He wants an excuse to get out of this place. To go somewhere else, just for a moment. Even if they’ll eventually have to return here, at least they can have moments where they feel free from this strange place. 

There had been something darker glinting in Amalthsus’ cold eyes as they had agreed to help.

He had spoken of saving the world, yet his smile had never quite felt genuine. It had looked stiff, fake, _wrong_.

She wonders if he’s got other plans, other ideas. He said, with the aid of the Aegis, mankind would be allowed to create the perfect world. A world with no pain and war and suffering. A world that becomes united.

Even still, she can’t help but feel like his idea of a perfect world is nothing like their own.

(She’s seen that look in people’s eyes before. He’s after something... but what?)

Her instincts are telling her to run. To take her prince with her and never look back. To get as far away from this strange place as possible.

As her panic grows, her tongue feels heavier in her mouth. She’s suddenly so much more aware of her pointed ears, the lightbulbs streamed across her body and her swishing tail. She feels like she does not quite belong here.

(Nothing belongs here. Nothing real, anyway.)

She stands out on the balcony, eyes gingerly opening as she tries to swallow her fears and doubts. Instantly, the sun floods painful light against her eyes and it feels like fire against her skin. She desperately attempts to block it out with her hands, but she cannot hide it. It creeps through the gaps between her fingers and slips around the curve of her wrists. It burns hot against her eyes and she cannot escape it’s blinding rays. It’s always there. No matter where you try and hide, it’s always there.

There’s something _unbelievably_ wrong about this place.

( _They have to get out of here!_ )

She feels guilt hot in her stomach. The people here have been nothing but kind and generous. Hospitable, caring, welcoming. They’re genuinely lovely people. They just want the best for everyone here.

Maybe there is no other secret motive and she’s just grown paranoid. Maybe she’s the problem here. Maybe it’s all her fault.

But the refugee camp... the dingy tents and scowling residents who hold their signs up with righteousness and pride. It’s dangerous. Ideas like that are dangerous. She wonders what they must have seen, what they must have lived through, to hate Blades so much.

It’s not right. There’s something wrong with this place. But what? There’s no evidence, no proof. Constantly, her mind revolves around the same simple thoughts; she knows something isn’t quite right but for the life of her she cannot pinpoint what it is.

She should just swallow her feelings and get on with it.

She’s just being silly. There’s nothing wrong.

Everything is going to be all right.

.

Indol is a land painted with white. Such a colour is supposed to represent purity, isn’t it? White. It’s supposed to mean untouched. It’s supposed to be clean. Safe. Innocent.

But instead it feels blank, like some strange mask. It hides this world in its own shroud of light, away from the death and war and hatred that hangs like thunderclouds over the rest of the world.

But they’re not really safe here. Just because they cannot see the battleships lining Fonsa Myma, or watch the ruthless murders from the corrupt Brionac division in Mor Ardain... Just because it’s not happening right in front of them does not stop such things from existing. Removal from such horrors cannot solve the issues at hand - Tantal is a kingdom that knows the effects of such ignorance all too well.

But is Indol really shying away from the ongoing conflict? Or is it a subtle encourager from the sidelines, something that could put an end to such violence yet will only choose to do so when it suits their own specific agenda?

She’d never had a mind for politics, regardless of her status as Tantal’s royal blade. It’s all too confusing in her head. Maybe Amalthus really is doing nothing wrong, maybe Indoline is just as pure and sweet and true as it appears to be. Maybe this paranoia is just an aftershock of a near-death experience.

Fan, one of Amalthus’ blades, had told her gently that such emotions and thoughts would arise sooner or later. It was only to be expected after such a traumatic event. Feelings like this are normal. 

So maybe her thoughts really are worth nothing. Her doubts and uncertainties are just the product of a troubled mind with nothing else to focus on. Once her and Zeke begin to travel once more, maybe the thoughts will simply disappear.

_(Or maybe they won’t. Maybe they’re here for a reason)_

Footsteps appear loud from behind her. She stiffens, hands furiously scrubbing at her reddened eyes. She doesn’t want to talk to anyone right now, especially not someone from Indol. They seem to worship Amalthaus’ every move. Whether or not their devotion is misguided, there’s no way they’d understand her own concerns.

“Hey.” She releases a breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding. Zeke comes to stand next to her, offering a small, fleeting smile as he rests his arms over the edge of the balcony. His fingers tap absently, almost nervously, against the bleached stone and he seems to be struggling to find the right words to say. They’ve still not spoken to one another, not properly, since they’ve been here.

“The sunrise looks beautiful.” He eventually states, words slow and unsure. She doesn’t miss the way he purposefully avoids her gaze, the guilt he’d been wearing since his revival still strong in his one visible eye. His words sound flat to her ears, as though he doesn’t quite believe in what he’s saying.

“Yeah.” She responds. Her voice too come she out forced, horribly fake. It’s brittle like plastic and she fears that it might snap and the cracks and holes will allow for her tears to spill free once more.

She wonders if this is what it’s like to live in Indol. To pretend everything is okay. To pretend there are no wars and no pain and no suffering, even when it’s shoved right under your nose.

_Indol is pure_ , she thinks.

_(Maybe, if she repeats it enough, she’ll actually start to believe it.)_

They stand there in silence, neither knowing what to say or do. It drags on as they absently watch the sun rise higher and higher. In a crisp blow of the wind, blue light shines down from the skies. It’s bright and clear, free of clouds that create darkened shadows and iced winds. But that doesn’t stop it from feeling heavy above them, as if they are being dangled under something huge and dangerous that they cannot quite comprehend. Breath shortening and hands growing clammy, she shifts under the cold gaze of the heavens, the blue that smothers the burning red does not offer the comfort she thought it would.

_(It feels like they’re drowning under it.)_

“What’s it like?” Zeke asks, shattering her bubbling thoughts. Hesitantly, she looks up at him, wincing at the pained expression plastered on his face. He looks so lost, so vulnerable. As if transported back through time, she suddenly sees a face young and round and youthful. A child, one longs lost to the experiences of life and the passing of years. It’s the face of a young boy who’d lost everything he had once known, disowned by an uncaring and selfish father, banished to a world he had never been allowed to see. He looks so akin to the child he had once been, the one she had been awoken to, so unsure and uncertain of the things happening around him.

She hates seeing him like this.

_It’s not right. None of this is right._

“You’re core crystal, I mean.” He adds when Pandoria fails to reply. “It-“ his expression twists, his growing fear turning down the edges of his mouth. “It doesn’t hurt... does it?” His obvious concern warms her heart, but she cannot bear to see her prince so down, so ridden with guilt, wearing an expression of self-loathing that gradually eats away at his him. He looks so tired, as if he’s been wandering the world for centuries. As if he’s so much older than he actually is.

_It’s not right._

“No, my prince.” She whispers back after a moment, pausing to swallow deeply. “No. It doesn’t hurt. Not even a tiny bit.” She sees his shoulders ever so slightly relax, his expression lightening at her words.

She hopes that she can make him smile again - a true smile, not the one he slaps on hurriedly when people who he does not wish to speak to ask him questions which he does not wish to answer.

She wonders if what has happened has created a rift between them, an inescapable void that separates them. She knows what he’s been thinking, what he had been thinking since their almost-deaths. What happens if they don’t get over this? If he cannot place aside his worries and realise that, no matter what, she would give him pieces of her core crystal until there was nothing left of it if it meant letting him live another day.

She knows him, she knows how thickheaded and stubborn he can be. But she’s stood by his side for almost a decade. If she can withstand all the awful situations his crazy bad luck has put them in, then surely trying to get him to just shut up and actually listen to her is going to be a piece of cake. She just has to work up the courage.

“I’m glad.” He eventually responds. With a careful sigh and a quick, worried glance; he moves ever so slightly closer to her.

Silence falls over the duo once more, however she notices how he’s still not looking directly at her, the guilt still wore plainly on his face. She wonders why he’s blaming himself for all of this.

If she’d protected him better, if she’d been faster, quicker, stronger; then none of this would have happened at all. If she’d done her job, done what a Blade is supposed to do, then everything would still be fine.

She remembers clearly the feeling of his body, barely alive, resting atop hers as she had dragged him through the woods, adrenaline the only thing keeping her going. She remembers the fear, the denial. She didn’t want to go, she didn’t want to forget.

She’d take a broken core crystal any day over the alternative.

She’d rather be dead than live a day without him.

The words sound cliché, even in her own thoughts, but, for the life of her, couldn’t imagine imagine living in a world where she does not know who Zeke is. 

_It’s better this way_ , she muses. She’ll never lose these memories. Not now, not ever. 

Boldly, she steps closer to him, gently resting a tentative hand on his bicep. squeezing it softly, she gives him her best “stop being a moron, you moron’ look as he _eventually_ turns to look at her.

“Pandy?” He starts, voice so soft she can barely hear it. If she hadn’t seen the way his chapped lips moved ever so slightly, she would have thought it was merely a gust of wind.

“It’s actually... well, it’s kinda nice, you know?” She whispers back, teeth tugging on her bottom lip as she tries to stop the quick flittering of the lightbulbs on her shoulders.

He freezes. She can feel his muscles tense under her hand and he tries, once more, to avert his gaze. She heaves a sigh, decidedly grabbing his hands with her own.

Forcefully, she intertwines their fingers. Meshing them tightly together, she absently notices how her own fingers seem so small against his his own.

“It’s nice. I like it.” She tries again, voice stronger and clearer than it had been before. Zeke looks down at her, glancing quickly between their joined hands and her own eyes, a strange emotion worn on his face. Maybe it’s just a trick of light, but Pandoria swears his cheeks are faintly dusted with pink.

She takes a step closer to him, bringing their intertwined hands up to rest near her fractured core crystal. She momentarily breaks eye contact, cheeks flushing hot as she tries to gather the words she wants to say.

“I’m keeping you alive.” She blurts, wincing at how harsh she sounds. She’s never been all too good at things like this. Zeke had always been much better at grand and romantic confessions, something which she knew all to well after being on the receiving end of his dramatics more than once.

However, he does not to seem to be bothered by her words. No, instead Zeke stares at her like she’s the most important thing in the world. Like she’s something much bigger and bolder and brighter than the person she sees looking back at her in the mirror.

“I can feel it. You. In my crystal.” She continues, words falling unfamiliar and stunted as she tries to put her strange feelings into words. He takes no notice of her mumbling and stuttering. He understands what she’s trying to say. He always does.

He takes a step closer to her, his body warm and safe and familiar, a comfort against these plain white walls. His body blocks out the sun - the light - as he stands so near to her she swears can see the faint ringed line his contact lens leaves. His eye is stormy grey, so unlike the sky that burns bright behind him.

He leaves her in shadows, yet she does not mind.

_(The Praetorium’s light is no comfort to her. There’s something wrong with it. It’s no holy light, that’s for certain.)_

However, there’s something different between them. Something dark and melancholy. Maybe it’s their realisation of their own vulnerability, his humanity. They’ve been close to such things before, but never before had death felt so certain - so inevitable.

“I can feel your heart beating.” Noise barely leaves her lips, but they stand so close together that he can hear every word, every movement, that she makes. “I know... I know your alive. When I concentrate... you’re there, with me.” She blinks back tears that threaten to spill. She promised she wouldn’t cry over this. Not again.

“I- I was so scared, my prince.” Her voice trembles and cracks and she hates it so much. She hates crying, she knows her eyes will be all splotchy and red and go really gross and she knows she looks like a right mess, but this is important.

_He has to know._

She looks down at her feet, hands growing hot and clammy against his own. She can’t help but feel guilty. He’s already dealing with so much, she doesn’t want to make anything worse,

“I thought you were gonna die. I thought- I thought I would too. You said I deserved a better driver. But-“ She pulls away her hands, scrubbing roughly at her eyes from underneath her glasses. Her fingers grow damp and she can feel the sting of tears as she desperately tries to blink them away.

He moves backwards ever so slightly, the warmth from his body leaving temporarily. She blinks harder, scrunching up her eyes and swallowing as deep as she can. Anything to make her tears stop flowing.

“Pandoria...” his fingers come to rest under her chin, gently forcing her to look up at him. The movement is soft. Careful. Safe.

She hesitantly opens her eyes, using the backs of her hands to quickly wipe away her trail of tears. As she looks up at him, she feels a rush of memories; years upon years of their intertwined lives seems to flood her head all at once.

She’s being a sentimental sap, she knows it. Emotional and gross.

It’s the result of over-exposure to him. He’s made her go all goopy and dramatic and _blech_.

She wouldn’t change it for the world.

He’s not like this place, all warm whites and soft creams. He’s... _cold_. Not in the normal sense; but in that cool, mysterious way that make women who read too many romance novels go wild.  
His skin’s so pale, porcelain, almost white. She’d always made fun of him for it, told him he glowed in the dark. (He’d believed that one for a while) His grey hair and grey eye, (at least, when he’s wearing his contacts) matched with dark, colourless clothes and eyepatch always added to his mysterious persona. It makes him look standoffish, a lone wolf.

To her, the colours are plain and dark, but she’s never seen something so bright. No matter how red the sky burns behind them, he will always be the thing that catches her eye. The sky behind them is alight with flame. _Burning_. It offers no comfort, only more fear - more paranoia.

He, however, is the opposite. Cold. Dreary. Like the crumbling ruins of Tantal. Like the colour of the snow they had played in so long ago, where they’d built the biggest snowman they possibly could. She remembers the blizzard that had raged on around them, the sea of white and grey and black merged with him as he had looked so fondly at her, still in awe of his brand new, super cool Blade. The colours may not be warm, but they’re familiar, they’re safe. Like home.

“If I’d gone back into my crystal...” she tries again, steadying her breathing and willing herself to calm down. Her voice still wavers and her eyes still burn. But he’s there, he’s here. He’s alive.

“I didn’t want to forget you!” She’s taken aback by the volume of her voice, taking a tentative step backwards as he jumps slightly, caught off guard by the sudden shout. She trips, heels catching on the smooth ground.

Hands steady on her waist, he catches her.

“It’s not just that, Pandy.” He shakes his head, closing his eyes for a moment as he collects his thoughts. “ _He_ didn’t even ask.”

She doesn’t have to ask who ‘he’ is.

“And I know what you’ll say. ‘You’d have done it anyway,’ right?” His eyes are intense, fired with an emotion she can’t quite place. “But you didn’t even get the choice! Now if I- if something happens to me... you’ll be gone too.” She opens her mouth to interrupt, but he cuts her off quickly.

“I don’t know what it’s like to know that one day you could lose all your memories. I don’t understand. I do know that it must be hard. Hard for every Blade, including you. But you didn’t even get a choice! He just did it anyway. You’ll die with me. And you didn’t even get a say in the matter...”

She can’t even argue with that. It’s true. What he’s saying is true.

She’s happy that she saved his life. Overjoyed that it is her who is keeping her Driver alive. She would sacrifice every part of her core crystal over and over and over again, if it meant keeping him alive for just one more day. She would, she knows she would.

But what happened... the strange, unfamiliar hole in her crystal... that operation could have killed her. It could have destroyed her crystal beyond compare.

‘You didn’t even get a choice!’

_(Maybe that’s what’s so wrong with this place)_

Amalthus had cut out a piece of her without asking. He had used a part of her, something that keeps her alive, without asking.

She knows that there was no other way. The two of them had been out for the count, Zeke would have died before she’d ever be conscious enough to make the decision.

(But she remembers seeing white walls and strange people. She remembers a jab in her arm, she remembers hearing faint voices, mumbles sentences. They could have asked. They didn’t.)

Even if that was the case, even if there really was no way for them to get her consent... The way he’d treated her. The way he’d looked at her when she’d awoken... there was something about him that just didn’t sit right. He had not apologised to her. He had treated her like she was not there.

_(He thinks you’re a tool. A means to an end. You’re not living. You’re not alive. Your only purpose is to serve your Driver.)_

“I don’t trust him.” Pandoria replies. “Not one bit.” There’s a pause.

“Me neither.” Zeke eventually responds, voice heavy. “The way he speaks about Blades... the way he spoke about you... something’s not quite right with him.” She doesn’t need to agree. They can both feel it. They both know there’s something wrong with this place.

“But we owe him. He saved our lives. Even if I don’t agree with what he did, he could have left us to...” he trails off, unwilling to finish. She can’t blame him.

The silence drags out further. His hands still rest on her waist, warm and strong and safe. They’re close enough that - if she concentrates - she can feel the ether energy permeating from his chest.

The danger still lurks in her head, but she can’t help but feel irrationally happy that there’s a part of her with Zeke, always.

They’re joined now. They’re intertwined with one another, they keep each other alive.

It makes her feel warm and fuzzy, like having a hot bath or sitting by a roaring wood fire.

It reminds her of Tantal. Her first memories. The one where, only a week after her awakening, she had been huddled under a blanket with Zeke. He’d been upset after a particularly nasty argument with his father, something which had only become more and more common until their eventual exile. They’d used her lightbulb on her tail to shine light under their faces, staying up all night to make up the silliest, scariest stories they could possibly imagine.

Her memories with Zeke are more valuable than anything else in all of Alrest. A decade of companionship, a decade watching him grow and mature and change - just like he had with her. And maybe, just maybe, there’s something more than friendship that lingers between them.

“I’d do it again if I had to.” She’s never said words more true.

“I’d do it a thousand times as long as I could spend another day with you.”

He flushes red, his eyes widened in surprise. She can’t help but grin broadly at his response. He’s actually surprisingly easy to fluster if you can catch him off guard.

Loudly, he clears his throat, giving an exaggerated blink (it’s hard to wink when one of your eyes is permanently covered!) as he steps back from her, waving about his arms as he slides into a dramatic pose.

“That’s not fair, Pandy! You’re stealing my sweet lines!”

She can’t help it, she laughs. For the first time since she’d awakened in Indol, she gives a true, honest, real laugh. It’s not even that funny. In fact, she’s not really sure why she started laughing in the first place, she’s only going to feed his ego even more.

“All ‘your lines’ are trash, my prince. You should be thankful I’m here to give you inspiration!” She retorts, falling into their familiar banter. She still doesn’t feel comfortable in this place, there’s still something horribly wrong here, but maybe - with Zeke by her side - they can make things alright.

“Ah, Pandy. Don’t even deny it, you love the Zekenator’s smooth moves!” He grins, teeth flashing as he moves back to the balcony, pulling Pandoria with him. She scowls up at him, but no malice lingers in her glare.

Snuggling against his side, she watches as the early risers begin to come outside. Refugees leave their patchwork tents, hand covering their eyes as they squint at the sun, still so bright in the sky. Indol natives set up their shops, their loud laughter and cheerful conversations whistle in the gentle breeze. She realises that Indol is just like any other nation on Alrest. Mor Ardain, Uraya, Tantal, Argentum.

There is good in this place, there is comfort and hope within these white walls, she’s just been looking in all the wrong places. Amalthus may not be right, he may be plotting something beyond their wildest nightmares, but no matter how hard he tries he will never control everything.

Maybe the world is burning. Maybe it is on fire, but life always finds a way to prevail.

She stands there, Zeke’s arm strong around her shoulders, gazing at the sky that seems to set the world alight. 

_Everything is going to be all right._

She means it this time. 

**Author's Note:**

> I like writing weird stuff like this bc I’m not very good at writing and this introspective style gives me an excuse to have awkward language and sentence structure. Yay for being pretentious!
> 
> Please tell me if I’m like a sonic OC kid on deviant art with this shit bc actually so paranoid I’m delusional about my writing, as in I think I’m okay, like not really that good but not like My Immortal level lmao. But if I’m awful either give some constructive advice or just tell me so I stop ruining the tags with shit. It’s a rare pair and I really don’t want to be filling it with trash when there’s already multiple AMAZING writers who you’d probably rather read.


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